La Belle Fin du Monde
by SadieMichelle
Summary: A partially reformed Loki attempts to save a woman's life. She doesn't handle it well.


**What to say? I got bored, I wanted to write a different Loki, I wanted to write a relatable, sailor mouthed OC, and eventually, I want to see these two interact. What's to follow after that depends on the response I get to this story. Or your response to the plot at work. Hope you enjoy and sorry about the LAP (Long Ass Prologue). I know they're meant to be short, but I'm terrible about following this rule. So, it's a wee bit long, but it needs to be so everything can be said. Ah, and before I forget, the title - La Belle Fin du Monde - translates from French to The Beautiful End of the World. I thought the French interpretation sounded more elegant. Again, enjoy!**

* * *

**Prologue**

"Did you bring a condom?"

"We wouldn't be doing this if I didn't bring one, _mon cher_."

"You better be sure. I'm not letting you stick it in me unless it's wrapped tighter than a Fed Ex package."

"I'll double wrap it if you really want to be careful. But you're on the pill and I bought the best latex. Tonight is exclusively for your pleasure. Not making _tout-petits_."

Jamie still appeared skeptical, hands constricted tightly around both knees. She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip, causing the pink skin to transform into a cherry red.

Gabriel watched this action silently, his insides responding eagerly to the timid action. It certainly didn't help that they were sitting in a bed either, both partially naked.

"Your nervousness is natural," he observed, forcing himself not to offer her a reassuring touch. "And believe me when I say that tonight isn't one you'll forget anytime soon. I want to show how much I love y-."

"Don't," she stopped him, ceasing her nervous gnawing and settling for a crooked frown.

"Don't what?"

"Make this seem like I'm going to believe that you're going to give me forever after this. We've gone out for a few months, sure. But you could be like every other guy I've ever dated who suddenly stops with the pleasant attitude once they know they're going to get laid-."

"Jamie-."

"-and I know I'm unusually cynical for only being twenty and you've got experience because that's a given when you're born in France, but I can't force myself into being the perfect doe-eyed virgin for you. Especially when there's such a good chance that I'll wake up and you'll be gone."

Gabriel didn't respond immediately, though a frown did mar his tan complexion.

"Why would you think that I'd be gone? Or that as a virgin, you are supposed to be perfect tonight?"

He could tell it took great strength for her to meet his eyes. But he was glad she did. No part of her was more expressive than her sapphire eyes. They glowed a molten blue when she became furious or indecisive. This time being no different.

"Why would you stay?" came her slow rebuttal.

And that was a new one. He'd never heard her take on such a vulnerable tone when talking about sex. For the most part, vulnerable and Jamie didn't even belong in the same sentence.

But here she was, not only bearing her skin to him, but a part of herself he knew instinctively not many others got to see.

"I would stay because I want to wake up to that peaceful smile you don't show. I would stay because I want to lay beside you in nothing short of bliss."

A short pause transpired between them as Jamie's features briefly became unreadable.

"How..._utterly_ romantic"

He detected sarcasm, but beneath it, hope as well.

"It is a skill I have perfected over time," he shrugged. "I'm not going to be rude, like part of you expects because we're finally so close to making love. It is not in my nature. And you know up to this point, I haven't lied about my feelings for you."

She tilted her head, studying him for sincerity. And with her careful scanning, Gabriel momentarily felt a strange mixture of hot and cold sweep over him, settling down inside his bones. But these were not new sensations by far. Those expressive, hooded eyes he loved were deceptively experienced in their scurrying and would eventually find a suitable answer.

"I don't know why," Jamie finally expressed, looking down at her lap, "it's so difficult for me to just lay down and let you fuck me."

Suppressing a flinch, Gabriel casted his charcoal brown gaze down to her exposed thigh, the light creamy color tightening the area in his groin.

"Because you know I'm not going to be fucking you," he offered, finding her eyes again. "Making love is different. And that scares you."

"So it does," she agreed soberly, eyes trailing off somewhere behind him. He doubted there was anything in particular she searched for. The room had been thrown into dim shadows for a good half hour now.

"Why does this in particular scare you?" he decided to pursue, hoping he wasn't crossing a line with the question.

"Honestly? I've always prided myself in being resilient. And ableminded, to a certain point. But when it comes down to screwing...I feel like I'm clueless all over again. Unsure. I _hate_ feeling that way."

Not exactly surprised at the admission, Gabriel shifted his weight from his left hand to right, the action serving to near the distance between them.

"You will be relieved to hear that there is no such thing as a virgin who is perfect the first time they make love. That is the romance novel's greatest lie. Not even a friends' tale that recounts each detail or an in depth porno will accurately put you in the moment. I'll tell you that yes, it will hurt a little at first. You will find yourself having to adjust and the movements won't come naturally. We'll have to find an equal rhythm. A pace. But I swear on my life that that fire I have helped stir inside you over these months, will spread through you with an intensity unlike any you've felt before. And when the sun rises, I will still be here. _Beside_ you. Not because I feel obliged, but because that is where I want to be."

Ever so leisurely, he watched her stiff shoulders relax in tension from their uncomfortable strain. Followed by both arms unwrapping themselves around her knees and settling themselves atop her thighs. Finally, she caught his eyes again, the dark, molten blue, considerably softer.

"I don't know if I love you," she declared truthfully, unafraid, as always, to speak her mind, "but I know that there is something..._there_ that I feel for you. Obviously or we wouldn't be in this position. And I want you to know how I feel so you can make a good choice for yourself."

"My choice will be the same no matter what you say. I want this," he confirmed, unsure how he could make it come out any clearer. "I want _you_."

He tried not to show how unnerved he felt at the somber smile momentarily ghosting over her lips. Or the way she turned her head away from him, shoulder length, tangled, coffee brown locks serving as a curtain of disconnection from the emotions playing on her round face.

"I still consider what we're about to do as fucking," Jamie repeated, tone even. "And it's hard for me to return your feelings."

"Is it fear?" he pried.

"No...more of comfort."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

Her eyes were back on him again.

"Gabriel...you just admitted to loving me. But I, being the unholy creature that I am, don't want to return your feelings because it is so damned easy to be content with only your love in this relationship. I want it to be enough so I don't have to put myself forward and potentially have this situation explode in my face. Do you get it? I have love inside me, but because I rarely make a habit of pouring it out, it's content with staying inside."

"_Mon cher_-."

"And that's why I consider it fucking. Because I'm...not involved with my heart here."

The words stung with an unprecedented fierceness, momentarily constricting the muscles in his throat, and for once, Gabriel forced himself to acknowledge just how much Jamie really meant to him over the seven months they'd been together. A record for him personally, though, she remained unaware of that.

In fact, before he'd met her, the typical relationship (if he could even call it that much) lasted a dull week or two. He provided the pleasure, but ultimately, left when becoming bored of the stagnancy and commitment needed to keep a selfish woman happy. And the women he'd slept with, really wanted nothing more than to show off how they'd screwed a foreign man.

But then Jamie Wilks had nearly ran him over with a burgundy Impala, cussing out a storm when he just stood there, watching her animated form like she was a cartoon special on Saturday morning.

He didn't know what piqued his curiosity. Or perhaps it'd been multiple things at once. No matter how selfish of a woman he bedded, they all ultimately showed him lust and admiration in one way or another. It didn't matter if it was in response to who he was or what he looked like.

Not Jamie Wilks.

He'd strutted mindlessly across the street when the traffic light had flashed green, and she let him know just what she thought of his rude interference.

He remembered laughing initially, which only served to make her swearing that much more severe. 'Wicked Garden' had been blasting through her cramped car and he'd had a tough time making out most of what she said over Weiland's deep, erratic singing. But it'd be sufficient to say that the heavy grunge suited her words quite accurately.

Once she noted his full-bellied laughter, something in her irritated features seemed to weaken. As if she didn't quite expect his reaction either. That reaction being amusement as opposed to screaming back or scurrying off in embarrassment.

She had eventually swerved expertly around him, but upon passing, hollered, "Get some glasses, asshole!"

He didn't take the insult seriously on account of the playful grin she shot him. As if urging him to respond.

"Gabriel Verdon!" he'd shouted back on impulse after she completed her swerve. His eyes had shone brightly while the wind knocked his normally slicked back, hazelnut hair over his face.

In that moment of consuming excitement, he'd felt like a boy all over again.

Before leaving him in the dust, she'd stuck out her head to peer back at him, grinning wildly. "Jamie Wilks!"

He'd found her within a week, through methods which could be considered stalking if they lived in anywhere but New York City. Not that she had been particularly surprised.

"If you really want something," she'd said to him outside of her duplex, "you've gotta be willing to go that extra mile. Even if your lungs are burning."

"Aren't you concerned with how I found you? Technically, it is stalking."

She shrugged as if it were the least of her problems. "This is different. I wanted you to find me. It's more of a...scheduled appointment."

He remembered laughing, entertained by the explanation.

"So what happens now?"

Scanning him up and down, Jamie crossed her arms.

Fleetingly, he had felt panicked that it was only the chase he'd enjoyed up to that point. Perhaps they were better acquainted as simply two strangers who got carried away one May afternoon on a cross walk in New York City.

But to his pleasure, she had a sound response.

"We do what normal people do."

"And that is?"

"Date, fuck, marry, divorce."

"And after we're done with that?"

She thought over this quietly, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. He came to recognize that each time she joked, she never truly meant it in a malicious sense despite how sharp and blunt her words could come out. At the end of the day, she said what she did because it was on her mind. Not because she meant to spite someone.

"We repeat the cycle like the love struck dumbasses we are."

He'd been content with that answer almost instantly. She didn't expect too much. But she was intrigued by what could form out of their unorthodox meeting.

The relationship which ensued made him realize what he'd been missing out on in his years of aimless wandering from body to body. He considered everything spontaneous and never boring. Sparked with fighting here and there, yes, but always compromisable in the end. An environment of unlimited free speech, which he enjoyed thoroughly because she swore like a pirate and apologized like a priest. Plagued by numerous, heavy make out sessions in abandoned theaters, it was in that unfolding darkness he realized he found himself equally attracted to her body and mind. And when midnight fell and they lay entwined in bed, it seemed like she could finally talk at length about the reasons she'd built such a sturdy wall of defense around her emotions.

Because while Jamie exuberated command and confidence outwardly, there existed an unspoken side of her that didn't enjoy treading on issues such as her childhood or the deeper meaning of the black, cursive ink tattooed just below her left shoulder spelling out 'I love no man' or why it was she felt comforted by sleeping with a lamp on each and every night.

But he respected the silence she kept. Who was he to demand she bear everything when there were certain secrets he'd go to the grave with?

Now, however, as he gazed at her, absorbing the fact that she didn't fully love him to the magnitude that he did her...well, understandably, it pained him. Like an anchor had settled itself atop his chest, intent on burying itself within his heart until everything he'd ever felt, oozed out from an unmendable depression. No one enjoyed being in a relationship where one partner felt everything more deeply and intimately than the other. Especially when that partner was beginning to have a difficult time envisioning life without the one they felt so passionately about.

"Did I completely fuck up the mood?"

He shook his head on instinct, the fire previously residing in his belly, taming into a cool ember.

"I still want this," she continued hastily, scooting herself toward him. "Don't get it into your head that I don't. You've got the physique of a Greek God and I'm sure you could whisper some absolutely filthy French in my ear and I'd get off on it. But I'm telling you now not to expect me to be..."

"-a love struck dumbass?" he finished, though no humor rested in his voice.

"That's about accurate," she nodded, attempting not to grimace. "And maybe I just need the intimate encounter to tap into what I'm having such a hard time...showing you."

He didn't respond immediately, lost in his own thoughts. Thoughts that suddenly had him reevaluating their entire relationship.

Something must have alerted Jamie to his troubled musings because a moment later, a determined hand landed on the inside of his thigh, coiling around the area of bronze skin just above his black boxers.

Nearly jerking at the action, Gabriel's eyes shot back to her, lips slightly parted. The touch combined with the playful smirk she shot him, successfully helped resurrect those flames once more.

"What are you doing?"

He tried to sound as uncompromised as she felt, but with the curious, wide eyed stare she gave him, it was difficult not to.

"I'm touching your thigh," she remarked quietly, unhurriedly - like chocolate melting beneath a blistering sun. A sun he suddenly had a difficult time breathing regularly around.

And as if to further emphasize her innocence, her fingers lightly squeezed around the muscled limb.

"I didn't think you wanted to make love," he attempted to remind her. A difficult action to do when her hand was inches away from his crotch. And his brain was begging him to ponder over her admission a little longer, making sure he didn't get in over his head. Though, he wondered if that hadn't already happened a long time ago.

"At this moment? No. I don't. And before we did this, I wanted you to know how I felt so you weren't blind sided by my reaction in the morning. That's something I owe to say to you, Gabriel," she explained, studying him carefully. "But...I didn't say I was against being fucked."

"I wanted to..." he trailed off when she scooted herself in between his legs, settling for a casual kneel, retaining eye contact with him despite the gradual ascension her fingers were making.

"Wanted to _what_?"

He breathed in to have stability, but was reminded only too late of Jamie's essence. Her _scent_. Like wilderness and a light rain in the jungles of Brazil. Dominating, yet tranquil. A scent that clung to her like a second skin and only able to be inhaled when her eyes darkened into a heavy indigo.

"I wanted your first time to be out of love," Gabriel responded, still maintaining a logical tone, "not because we're both horny and have nothing better to do."

It took great strain on his throat to force out that sentence, and faintly, he wondered why his reaction here and now felt more intense than ever before. Had he been anticipating this moment so heavily that every little touch paralyzed him? It seemed odd and unusual to have such an instant reaction to her touch.

But it was a good odd. And a good unusual.

"Hmm," she lightly hummed, fingers suddenly skipping backwards. "While I respect that, my French Fabio, you also promised this to be a memorable night. So, I'm telling you right now that I don't need the candles or the fireworks or the slowness. Save that for later. Or more appropriately, a time when I'm finally ready to embrace it. Right now, I don't care that I'm a virgin. After months of being more sexually frustrated than an abstinent nun, I want to be fucked like there's an apocalypse riding my ass. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to do the honors."

Gabriel swallowed past the dryness in his throat, suddenly only able to hear the deafening rush of blood racing through his body. Of which he could personally guarantee was mostly heading south.

"Speechless?" she teased, hand retreating from his thigh. "What a shame. You are so _very_ talented with your mouth."

Seconds later and he tackled her backwards, hands grasping underneath her thighs and tugging her parted legs to his waist.

Not entirely naïve, Jamie instantly wrapped both legs snugly around him, nearly succumbing to dizziness when she felt the evidence of his sudden spryness.

"I'm screwed, aren't I?"

"Not yet," he mumbled roughly, torso bending over her own as his eyes swept over her. "But you will be, _mon cher_. Thoroughly."

Gulping, Jamie offered him a determined smile, one arm swinging around his neck to pull him nearer.

"Bring it, sweetness."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Are they a liable threat?"

Maria nodded reluctantly, trying to keep up with Director Fury's quick pace, manila file in hand.

"I went through the research myself three times. If what Connelly and I have been following is correct, they'll be on the move tomorrow night. In New York."

"And is there a particular building they're targeting?"

"Well, sir...it's my understanding that their intention isn't to gain more attention to themselves. And other than the hacking they've done, they're relatively comfortable with remaining inactive. So in that sense, their cyber terrorism is on hold."

"And again, I repeat myself, Agent Hill. What building will they be targeting?"

"They're not targeting a building," she retorted, perhaps a bit too forceful. "They're targeting a person."

The man paused abruptly in his steps, nearly causing Maria to run straight into him.

"Based on your report, I wasn't aware kidnappings were their game."

She hesitated, noting the tension suddenly entering his voice. God help her if the night-long information she'd gathered, was off completely.

"It's not their usual game," Maria agreed, keeping calm. "But Agent Romanov believes because they've been silent for over a month, they've gathered all the information they need for whatever it is they have planned. Which is _incredibly_ dangerous information to know, sir. They could eventually shut down power grids across the country. And while these hacked grids have had their security boosted in response, it's only a matter of time until they make their move. Tomorrow night, I believe a part of their plan will be put in motion. The person they intend to abduct, obviously has something or knows something that's essential to their goal."

Ever so leisurely, Fury regained his stride, frown depressed on his dark features.

"Where is Agent Romanov right now?"

"She and Barton are...off duty. You have to remember that she stumbled upon this information by accident while working the Vancouver assignment. At this moment, even she's not aware of how serious these guys are. Mainly because they know how to cover their tracks."

The Director made an unintelligible grunt at the back of his throat, legs speeding up.

"I'm not liking this, Hill. How did you figure out they're intending to take someone?"

"Agent Connelly intercepted a line they were using to communicate. This line is now dead and he's been attempting to trace another they're speaking on, but from what we've gathered, they've been studying this civilian from a distance for the better part of a month. Last night, it was decided that they'd pay them a visit. It was never indicated whether they intended them physical harm, but knowing that they will need to take this individual by force, says enough about their intentions."

"They're kidnapping a civilian?" he questioned in confusion.

She followed him mutely into the elevator, suddenly preferring to be in an enclosed area with Banner. Because this information would not be sitting well with the man at all. Mainly because they still understood so little about this group.

"As far as I know, yes. The civilian is a twenty-year old female. After they named her, I put her through our data base. There's nothing significant or eye-catching about her or her upbringing. She's an employee at a record store in east Manhattan, has never been arrested, and lives in a duplex with a boyfriend whose ledger is equally clean."

"Then why the hell would cyber terrorists want to kidnap her?"

Maria didn't answer right away, equally puzzled by her findings. It frustrated her beyond belief to realize the problem before her didn't make sense. Whoever this group of people were, so far, they were able to gain information without ever leaving a trace of wherever it was they hid themselves.

But now they suddenly were willing to come out of the shadows. All because of an ordinary civilian.

The more she troubled herself thinking about the situation, the more uneasy she felt.

"Whatever the reason, we need to send her protection," she voiced.

The elevator doors flung open and both Director Fury and Maria froze when they noticed Agent Connelly's bulky mass blocking their exit, normally stoic features twisted with worry.

"What's happened?" Maria demanded.

Connelly tensed up. "They're going after the target tonight."

"You said-."

"I know what I said. But that was before their most recent discussion."

Maria's eyebrows shot up.

"You picked up on another line?"

"Traced their voice patterns through functioning cell phones. That's not important. What is is that they changed their minds. They are going after her tonight. Director...we need to get the girl somewhere safe."

Connelly let Fury pass, but his eyes stayed on the man the entire time.

"I'll send agents-."

"NO!"

Both Maria and Fury jerked in surprise at Connelly's outburst, studying the red faced man.

"Respectfully, sir, sending our agents is a bad idea," he recanted hurriedly. "This girl is in serious trouble because the people who are taking her tonight, aren't...normal. And after she's served her purpose, I believe they're going to kill her."

Keeping her surprise internal, Maria watched Fury out of the corner of her eye. Ultimately, he was in charge of what their next move would be.

"What the hell do you mean they're not normal?"

"When Agent Romanov first picked up on these guys, she remembers them saying something about embarking on a goal no _krake_ could hinder. Krake is German for octopus and at the time, I believed it to be a metaphor. But-."

"-HYDRA's symbol is an octopus," Maria finished, that uneasiness suddenly increasing tenfold.

Connelly nodded.

"We have agents integrated in their organization and I got in contact with one to learn why these guys separated from their former ally. What I learned isn't good. This is a new cell consisting of nine men who stole biological chemicals from three separate HYDRA laboratories. Their intent was to increase their own endurance and strength. To become...more than human along the likes of Captain America himself. Once HYDRA discovered what they were doing, stealing essentially for their own gain, a bounty was put on their heads. Conveniently, the cell slipped into obscurity shortly after, but from what HYDRA noted, the chemicals worked on at least six of the members who injected themselves. But none of my sources could determine the state of these members after the injection."

"If six people from an evil organization suddenly acquired additional abilities that allow them to be invincible, how come they haven't made their presence known?" Maria pestered, overwhelmed by the learnings. "How come they haven't tried to attack any one?"

"They have a plan," Connelly informed simply. "We don't know what it is, but the fact that they're being patient enough to not reveal their new forms, tells me it's not good. Not just that, but the whole world watched the Avengers defeat an entire army of aliens, nine months ago. They may be confident with the changes in their bodies, but together, these guys aren't a match for the Avengers. And they know that. So, they're laying low."

"Until now," Fury confirmed.

"Yes. Just as Agent Hill told you, they will be in New York, if they're not already. I have the girl's address. But considering that we know nothing about what these people can do, it'd be a large risk to send human agents."

The command room fell into an anxious silence, both agents watching Fury with anticipation.

"You're sure about this," the Director continued, keeping Connelly in place with a firm, steely stare. "We aren't going to be sending one of our own over just to scare the girl when no one else shows up?"

"The more time we spend debating this, the less time she has at freedom," Connelly concluded without a flinch. "Everything is telling me that their intentions are sinister."

Fury inhaled deeply, crossing his arms.

"And this is where we're in a dilemma," he explained unhappily. "Our...super heroed agents, for the most part, are scattered across the world."

"Banner is in the lab," Maria reminded.

"Banner stays here," Fury dictated. "Unless we want the media on our ass and another part of the city destroyed, Banner is to go nowhere near a situation he isn't prepared for. Near people we don't know the strengths of."

"Call Stark," she insisted. "He lives in-."

"-vacationing on some island off of Greece with Pepper for the past two weeks," Connelly spoke up. "He didn't inform you guys because he didn't want to be disturbed."

Fury and Maria stared at him.

"What?" Connelly defended. "Don't blame me for not saying anything. Stark did send me a nifty post card, though."

Shaking her head, Maria glanced back at Fury, her brain immediately crossing off Natasha and Clint. For one, they were enjoying their own piece of sanctuary somewhere even she didn't know the location of. A break they desperately needed. And secondly, at the end of the day, they too were only human. Potentially losing the both of them to an unknown danger was a risk the agency couldn't take.

It appeared as if Fury was on the same line of thought because his lips stretched into a thin line.

"Rodgers?" Maria tried.

"Not a chance," Connelly argued. "He's on a retreat in France that commemorates all the surviving world war two veterans. Even if he agreed to this, he wouldn't be back in time. Plus...he doesn't get out much. This is personal for him."

"Christ," she muttered in exasperation. "It's like this group knew no one would be able to help this girl."

"Of course they knew!" Connelly exclaimed, realization dawning on him. "That's why tonight was perfect. Our best guys are disconnected and separated, unaware of the situation. God knows if they were aware, the girl wouldn't be nearly as easy to take."

"That means they know we're on to them," Maria stated angrily, watching their options run out. "Or at least know the whereabouts of our best people."

"Speaking of God, what about Thor?" Connelly inquired. "I've caught glimpses of him here and there over the past month."

"He was discussing something with Banner last night," Maria recalled, smile beginning to form. "It's perfect! He'll be able to get in and out if he travels through the sky."

Unfortunately, Fury still wore a mask of disgruntlement.

"As of this morning, Thor returned to Asgard. He won't be back for a week or two."

"You have got to be kidding me," Maria grumbled. "I hate to say this, Director, but if we don't act now, this girl will be gone and we lose a potential chance to figure out what this group wants. Send Banner and a few of our own guys and at least we might stand a chance."

"I made myself clear on Banner. He stays until we know what this threat is," Fury returned.

"Then what do we do?" Connelly blurted. "We're out of options, unless we want to send our own people in blindly."

The first lines of stress began indenting themselves on Fury's face.

"There is a last alternative," the Director finally confessed, not sounding particularly pleased about the fact.

"Do we have another hero in our arsenal?" Connelly joked.

"Hero? No. Individual with exceptional abilities who can hold his own? Most definitely."

Maria and Connelly exchanged a confused glance.

"Who?"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Stop being such a pussy."

Jamie glared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, studying her flushed face and slanted frown. One foot tapped against the cold marble beneath her while her teeth became insistent on ripping apart the skin covering her lips.

"Get back in there," she commanded.

Having half an urge to punch the mirror when she didn't follow her advice, Jamie backed away for a moment, flicking on the faucet. Ice water washed over her hands and she gladly dumped it across her heated face, fingers rubbing stray droplets over the back of her neck.

A few exhausted breaths flew from her lips while one hand shut off the flow of water. Inside the bathroom, there existed a solid muteness she could practically feel constricting around her. And the longer she stayed in place, the harder it seemed to breathe.

"Jamie? Are you alright?"

Blinking a few times, Jamie lifted up her head, the slightest smile unable to stop itself from forming.

"I'm fine, Gabriel."

"I forgot...about the lights," he murmured awkwardly from the other side of the door. "I should have kept them on. I knew you felt uncomfortable with them off."

"It's alright," she replied steadily, hoping to mask the tension in her voice.

"You panicked," he insisted, sounding unconvinced. "Did I...?"

"No, no. You didn't do anything. You were...doing great."

"I must have hurt you, _mon cher_. I don't make it a habit of having women fight me off during sex."

Jamie bit back a strained sigh, shaking her head.

"It wasn't you," she repeated. "I need you to know that."

He didn't respond for a few minutes, but she heard the dull thump of his head falling against the wood.

"I believe you," he conceded. "Which means your panic began the moment I turned off the lights."

Her hands tightened on the sink, but otherwise, she kept her voice void of affliction.

"Pathetic, isn't it?" she tried joking back. "I can chase after a mugger who's stolen my wallet, but I can't get by a night without a lamp on. Especially while we were..."

Grimacing, she studied the sink, jaw tightening ever so slightly.

The silence seemed to provide Gabriel with courage.

"I never asked because I feared being intrusive, but if you want to tell me about your phobia with the dark, I will listen openly," he informed gently. "Your reaction proves it to be more than just an offhanded problem. And we both know tonight isn't mandatory."

She may not have quite loved the guy, but Jamie still felt blessed beyond belief to have someone who could understand her without ever letting their own expectations get in the way. She'd been in many relationships where her freak out moments ago (a rarity of its own because she was a firm believer in retaining her cool) would have the guy scrambling for the nearest whorehouse, fed up by the lack of a follow through.

Yet, Gabriel still stood on the other side of the door, voice comforting, offering to listen to the origins of a story she never intended to tell.

"You dumbass," she whispered with a quiet laugh, unsure who she was directing her statement towards.

But with it, she glanced down at herself.

As soon as the darkness had spread through the room, her hands had automatically gone to pull her cotton white underwear up. And after throwing Gabriel off the bed, she'd grabbed his discarded t-shirt off the floor, mistaking it for her own, and launched herself into the bathroom, throwing it on with a shaky quickness.

He was always quite proud of his heritage - faded, gray shirt attesting to the fact. It displayed a black and white rendition of an inky Eiffel Tower across the chest. A casual sniff of the shirt and one could pick up on a purely male cologne combined with a tinge of cigarette smoke. Thankfully, he never carried the habit, but she had a pack from time to time and the smoke always managed to snake its way into the fabric of his shirt.

She inhaled it, lips curving up, eyes fluttering shut.

The shirt alone was a product of everything she liked and respected so much about Gabriel Verdon. His manliness and experience. His patience in dealing with her and her habits. The image across the chest - a proud symbol of who he was.

Combined together, and he really was the specimen of everything she didn't deserve, but somehow had regardless.

The longer she allowed these thoughts and sensations to consume her, the quicker her stomach began to drop once more from the overwhelming essence of it all.

"Jamie?"

His deep voice caused her fingers to detach themselves from the shirt.

Gradually, she gazed up at herself in the mirror, studying the anxious face staring back.

"This is real," she murmured. "This is happening. And he loves you. Don't let the dark ruin this."

She almost didn't recognize that the words were spewing from her own lips. How often had she given herself pep talks throughout her life? Hardly ever. She had held her own without ever needing to verbally supply the girl staring back in the mirror with self-confidence.

But now, the self talk seemed appropriate. Otherwise, she wasn't sure if her feet would allow her to finish what she'd started outside the bathroom door. And she very much intended to finish it.

"I'll be out shortly," Jamie promised. "Lay back down on the bed and I'll join you in five minutes."

He didn't argue, perhaps recognizing the sincerity in her voice. Or deciding to trust her because he held an unshakeable faith in her.

Finding her reflection once more, Jamie allowed a half smile to sprout.

The time for being vulnerable was over. Right now, she needed to get her shit together. Gabriel wanted her, she wanted him, and her legacy wasn't going to be to disappoint them both.

"There is a sexy man waiting for you in your bed. A sexy, French man who just officially declared his love for you. The dark is nothing and you are not going to turn into a sniveling pussy because of it."

As the words tumbled out, she could almost feel her skin get thicker. This was the type of self talk that worked wonders.

And yet, she still hesitated. Because each time she recalled her freak out after Gabriel's fingers had flicked off the lamp, a nauseating panic struck. Her aversion to sleeping in the dark wasn't unfounded. There existed a story to it.

"You've got four minutes to get over it," she declared.

And so, the count down began.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Absolutely not! I'll go there myself before we let him!"

"Need I remind you who's in command, agent Hill?" Fury threatened, weaving around a corridor. "He is our best hope if we're to save this woman's life."

"He attempted to enslave our entire race! What makes you think he's going to care about saving one of our own?"

"I've watched his progression myself. He may not play the hero, but he is indebted to our agency for giving him protection and avoiding a very lengthy prison sentence on his home planet that I'm told would have been less than pleasant. For the most part, he's not hostile and often converses with those who make an effort to be open minded."

"Sir-."

"I've made my decision, Hill. We've left Loki on his own numerous times and he hasn't made me regret it. Thor has confidence in his brother and I've spoken to him myself enough to know he isn't an immediate danger to us."

"But what makes you think he'll even say yes?"

Fury hesitated briefly.

"He owes us," came his response. "We're keeping him from living a very contained life. Plus, he's being compliant and tolerable. Banner, Romanov, and just recently, Barton can all stand to be in his presence. Whether he's faking it or not, he has made a drastic change from his former mindset."

Maria fought down the bitter remark resting on the tip of her tongue, intent on following Fury's quick pace.

"As agents who were personally attacked and killed by his reign, don't you think we should have known that he's been not only on this planet, but in our very own building for the past nine months?" she bit out.

"Tell me you wouldn't have attempted something had you been made aware of Loki's presence," Fury countered, stopping before a door. "He was in a dangerous mindset when first coming here. Defeated, humiliated, angry, lost. The last thing I needed was a vexed agent to confront him."

"What do we get out of this, then? By letting him recuperate. I know you didn't do this out of the goodness of your heart," Maria demanded, choosing to ignore his comment. For as much as she loathed the villain, she couldn't argue with Fury's words. Had she been made aware, she'd probably have put a bullet through his head.

"We have Thor's constant and unwavering protection. Just as Loki owes us for providing him with asylum, Thor owes us for showing mercy. He spends just as much time on Asgard as he does here. Impressive, considering he's a King there. I'm also told we may have a potential ally in Asgard because of our handling of Loki, something I did not take lightly. Should we ever be attacked on a global scale, that is not aid I'm willing to remind myself I turned my back on."

Feeling herself get angrier by the moment, Maria forced herself to begin inhaling calmly.

"I've only informed you and agent Connelly of this because I thought you could keep perspective on what this evening is about. Keeping a civilian out of a danger we do not know the scale of," Fury reminded. "We are out of options. I hoped to never bring Loki into our affairs. His sentence on this planet was to be made in a semi-solitude state. But at this moment, we have no other being at our call who will be prepared for whatever is thrown his way."

"Director, that's lud-."

"Must you bicker in front of my room? I am fond of my beauty sleep."

Neither had noticed the door sliding open, or the languid, tousle-haired being leaning on the entrance, green eyes studying the pair.

Maria hated herself for letting her eyes first stray down to his naked torso. It said little about her character.

But, for a split second, her brain honestly forgot that the insane God was indeed a male.

Who slept in nothing but navy blue sweatpants.

With someone who had appeared malnourished from a distance in his thinness, Maria saw firsthand that he actually carried a bit more muscle and skin then his pale, skinny appearance would lead on. Not burly or beefy like Thor, but lean and angled with faint chisels indented from his chest down to his abdomen. She could almost overlook the sinewy, snow white scars adorning his chest, shoulders, and ribs because his physique was so impressive.

"Perhaps I should have attempted to rule Midgard without a shirt," Loki observed with a smirk. "Certainly would have made the female gender submit quicker."

As soon as the words sunk in, Maria impulsively grabbed her gun.

"Hill," Fury warned.

Reluctantly, her fingers slipped off the weapon.

"Still a temper on this one," the God noted in amusement, not the least bit sorry for his provocation. "A shoot first, ask questions later mentality. I now understand why it took all this time for her to be informed of my presence."

Maria's teeth gritted together in agitation, but she maintained control after reminding herself who stood beside her. Though, had he not been there, the next few minutes might have gone a bit differently.

"We're not here to begin a damn contest over who pisses the other off more," Fury interrupted, focusing his good eye on the God. "I'm here on a request."

Loki crossed his arms, eyebrows raised. "It must be quite the request if you've come to me."

"Are you willing to stop complaining and hear it out?"

"Of course. Do continue," he gestured half mockingly.

"There is a civilian who needs to be evacuated from her home. Some not so nice people are after her. I'd prefer you do the honors."

"Why not send your men to help this woman from these not so nice people?"

"On top of being not so nice, I've been told they're not all...human. They carry abilities we can only hope aren't as destructive as we're led to believe. With this unknown threat, but a threat regardless, I'll be sending my men to their deaths should the confrontation get violent. And in attempting to obtain this girl without her consent, I'm led to believe it will be violent."

"And I'm the only capable being to save the damsel in distress?" Loki finished.

"Our best people won't be reached in time. You're the last resort," Maria spat.

"But a resort you trust?"

He directed this question at Fury.

"You've proved yourself."

Studying him closely, Loki mulled over the proposition, smirk ever so gradually thinning out.

"If I've proved myself, you would not be so hesitant in allowing me to integrate into the immediate population of this city. You've provided me with shelter and food and company, though the latter isn't always necessary, but I am still contained to your building. So, Director, I don't believe I've quite earned your trust. But I understand and recognize desperation. Seeing as you are most likely counting on my ability to recall how you extended mercy upon me nine months ago, I feel almost obliged to agree to this request. I would be a monster otherwise and you would never allow me to stray out of this building, correct?"

Fury looked as if a migraine was fast approaching him.

"I am hoping you would do this because saving someone as opposed to allowing them to suffer, is the morally right choice."

"I've reformed, but by no means have I attempted to shape my morals into something that mirror's your agency's heroes. Cruel to hear, perhaps, but I will be the first to admit I am notoriously selfish. And I do what I need for my benefit. So, if I was to accept your request, understand that I will want something in return."

"And what is it you want?"

Loki didn't even pause to think it over.

"While my magic gets me by and rattling your people is a form of good entertainment, I have grown bored with my containment. In return, I want to explore and wander freely."

"You've stayed in this room for nine months?" Maria questioned, surprised he was possible of such domestication.

"Don't be ridiculous," he chided. "I'm a God. Nothing can contain me. I've been in numerous locations around this city already. But it's never been in my true form. A bit exhausting considering my illusions last a few hours at best. And always tricky because I never know when you'll come back to check in on me."

Fury didn't appear to be too shocked about Loki's wanderings, as proven by his next statement.

"You stay inside the city and disguise yourself. That is _not_ a negotiation."

"I hardly think any humans will be able to recall my face. It's been nearly a year and your race does love to suppress unpleasant memories. A dangerous habit because that memory never quite disappears, lingering beneath the surface, open to anyone who prods at it enough. Though, considering you're actually on the verge of agreeing to my demand, I suppose it's not unreasonable."

"You talk to me if you want to leave and tell me where you're going," Fury continued. "If I decide to check in on you and you're not where you say you are, I'm not holding back my patience for you to return."

"Yes, mother dearest. Should I hold someone's hand when walking across the street as well?"

"You're pushing it," the Director warned.

"So I am," Loki grinned. "Do we have an agreement then? If I do as you've requested, you'll allow me to come and go as I please without crying to my father about it?"

Fury grimaced, not particularly fond of the outcome. Then again, the God had been doing as he pleased for who knew how many months. Should he have wanted to cause destruction, he would have already.

"Agreed," Fury caved.

"Excellent. Now tell me more about this damsel and the bad men who are out to hurt her."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"One minute left. Hey, I think you're actually getting horny again."

She nearly wanted to burst out laughing at this statement, but refrained. Were she in Gabriel's position, the noise might be a bit off-putting.

But she was finally pushing the memories below a surface. Memories that had nearly ruined her night in the first place.

"You're doing good. Just keep imagining that gorgeous man currently laying in your bed," Jamie continued, studying her growing, flushed features. "Maybe he'll swear in French. Or cum in French. Does that even make sense?"

She paused, feeling her heart rate increase at the thought of what Gabriel's sex face would be. She hoped it wouldn't contort into something unnatural, one eye glued to the ceiling while the other shook back and forth, lips set in a silent 'o' as his nostrils twitched.

The image in her head actually concerned her for a moment. Talley, a co-worker at Danny's Record Shop, was eager as hell to hear every detail of their night together. If Gabriel's features did indeed contort themselves into a face resembling a man in the process of taking a shit, she might actually have to lie.

Sighing, Jamie turned her back to the mirror, eyes settling themselves on the toilet.

Right now, she felt good. She felt strong and rejuvenated. She felt warm and with a simple inhale of Gabriel's shirt, decidedly lustful.

She could do this. For real, this time. And nothing inside her soul, inside her head, inside her body, would allow her to regret this.

With shoulders back and grin in place, her feet padded over the cold floor, hand wrapping around the door knob.

She had little to no time to prepare for the sudden pressure of a hand clamping over her mouth, or the rough tug around her waist as she was forced backwards into a hard, masculine body.

"As cliched as this sounds, I need you to not scream," came a low, accented voice into her ear. "I'm not here to hurt you."

All of the excitement once flowing through her body, evaporated as Jamie wildly attempted a charge forward, teeth hoping to bite through the palm of her intruder.

An annoyed growl passed through the man's chest as the arm around her stomach, yanked her back into him, pulling her further away from the door so her swinging feet wouldn't strike against it.

And his palm actually forced itself into her mouth, successfully keeping her teeth from getting a substantial amount of skin to bite.

"Don't attempt to fight me, Jamie. I'm here for your bene-."

Jamie swung her head backwards, satisfied when her skull slammed into his nose.

Miraculously, however, his hold on her didn't so much as loosen even though her action caused him to drag her further away from the door until they were nearly to the wall.

"Understand this now," he darkly threatened, "you are not escaping my hold and it's fruitless of you to try. I am a warrior and master of ill-."

The heel of her foot propelled back into his shin while her teeth made another attempt to break through the skin keeping her teeth immobile.

"Will you just behave for one second?" the man snarled into her ear, grip tightening until she almost had a difficult breathing. "I'm attempting to save your life."

Through her panic, Jamie actually hesitated for a moment.

Unsurprisingly, the first thought to pass through her mind was that he'd try to rape her. Which held a disgusting amount of irony in it. Being raped moments before losing her virginity to the closest man she ever came to loving.

But she detected sincerity, out of all emotions, in his last statement and for a split second, this allowed her body to grow lax.

"You'll thank me later," the man promised, loosening his hold ever so slightly in response to her compliance.

Before she could begin to renew her struggles, the scenery of her bathroom began to ebb away into a swirling mural of colors while her stomach dropped in fear when her feet found that no solid ground supported them.

In seconds time, the bathroom ceased to carry a single remainder of Jamie Wilks.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The woman struggled admirably against him, even through their transportation, but Loki managed to keep a firm arm around her the entire time. He wasn't particularly pleased with the reaction seeing as he was there to save her life, but he couldn't blame her either. To her, it would appear as if she'd been abducted. And a part of him was dying to see her reaction once she realized what had happened. Magic always seemed to stun mortals into stupidity.

Perhaps ten seconds passed by before there was ground beneath them once more and with a sigh, Loki released the woman, relieved to have done his part.

The woman stumbled forward, eyes studying her scenery wildly before turning toward him.

He was surprised to see a ferocious anger embalmed in her features rather than gratefulness.

"What the fuck?" she spat, still dizzy on her feet.

Loki offered her a mocking smile, more amused that a mortal woman clad in only underwear and oversized t-shirt, dared release such anger on her savior.

"That was transportation," he revealed as if she were slow. "You're welcome, by the way."

Before she could get in another word, another voice spoke up.

"Don't worry. You're safe now. My name is Maria, and you're safe, okay?"

The woman blinked once before twisting around to face the agent.

"I don't understand."

Maria's features softened.

"That man who brought you here...his name is Loki. And he just got you out of a bad situation. There were men coming to abduct you. Consider this a last minute rescue mission."

To Loki's disappointment, she didn't question the transportation.

"I'm trying to take this all in one at a time," she slowly managed, pointing a finger at him. "He just took me out of my apartment because...I was about to be abducted?"

"The men were already inside your bedroom," Loki inserted, hoping to get across his rare moment of heroism once more. "This is why I appeared in your bathroom. The moment you would have opened that door, they would have taken you. Unless you've forgotten, I'll mention it again. You're welcome."

"We're a government agency," Maria intercepted, keeping her eyes on Jamie. "We were following this group for a while now. Recently, we learned they were coming after you. Unfortunately, these men weren't exactly of...normal strength. Loki isn't either. He was prepared to handle them if they were to try and get violent with you."

She appeared stunned into silence, mouth open, but entirely mute.

"I've done my part," Loki announced. "I suppose your thanks isn't nece-."

"Take me back."

Loki rose an eyebrow while Maria shook her head softly.

"I'm afraid we can't do that," she explained. "These men will kill you."

"You don't understand," Jamie returned quickly. "My boyfriend is inside that apartment. If these guys are as scary as you make them out to be, he doesn't stand a chance."

"And you, a mortal, can take them all on?" Loki taunted.

"Shut the fuck up and take me back now, damn it!"

Her rash demand was hurled toward Loki, but he only continued staring at her with an air of disinterest.

"No."

She advanced on him with an impressive anger, blue eyes darkened and unafraid. For a faint second or two, Loki couldn't look away from them even if he wanted to.

"You listen here, asshole. My boyfriend is inside my apartment, currently waiting for me to leave the bathroom so we can screw each other into oblivion. If there are men after me, I'm sure as hell not going to leave him as a scapegoat. Take me back now or you will regret it."

Her voice kept flickering between threatening and an attempt at control, mixing together to form a memorable statement.

"No," Loki repeated, having the audacity to smirk. "Perhaps if you ask nicer, I could-."

He wasn't prepared for her sharp slap across the face or the stinging that sprouted afterward.

"You insufferable bastard," she growled, moving within inches of his face. "Right now, you've done your duty. You saved my ass. Thank you SO _very_ much. But your mission is not complete until you bring Gabriel here too, got it?"

At a loss of what to say, Loki commented tightly, "He was never part of the arrangement. But with your complete disregard for my saving you, I'm starting to think I should have never bothered. The world could do without your incessant, vulgar, childish explosions."

"It's not considered saving a life if you're constantly harping for recognition," Jamie retorted, completely unperturbed by his insults, eyes eroding into his own. "Take me back and you'll get your wish, _dickhead_."

Though he considered her swearing to be juvenile, each time she did so, he felt himself grow angrier and angrier. It was clear she meant to insult him.

"Fine," he snarled, grabbing a hold of her arm.

"Loki, NO!"

But the agent's yell was cut off as their surroundings once again swirled together.

It seemed to take a far quicker time to appear back into the woman's bathroom than it did to leave it.

And as soon as they did, she threw his hand off hers in disgust, sprinting away from him.

Loki didn't know how to feel about this turn of events. His goal was to originally evacuate her from danger, but he found himself now throwing her back all because she goaded out of him an anger he thought he'd had a fair amount of control over.

Then again, how much control was expected out of a being after being screamed at, swore, and hit?

The latter still drew his ire, but he couldn't suppress his admiration at her boldness. Despite a part of him wanting to hit her back. She had a brash, yet fierce presence.

Mentally, he rummaged through the apartment, searching for any signs of life, but he found only his own and Jamie's.

"This will not bode a fair reaction," he murmured, boots marching forward.

His first assumption was that the men kidnapped her precious Gabriel. It would certainly make sense as they could bargain him for the girl.

But upon entering her bedroom, he found the result to be far worse. Not because it affected him personally, but because in taking the action that they did, these men had made a statement.

To his surprise, Jamie wasn't sobbing as she knelt slowly beside her dead boyfriend, hand stroking away stray pieces of his hair. He faintly thought she might be in shock. And this caused him to stand awkwardly in his spot, hands clasped behind him, unsure if he should even be witnessing this.

As the minutes passed by, he felt all former anger and annoyance, drain out of him. From where he stood, he recognized the pattern of strangulation marks around his throat. But it wasn't strangulation that had killed him. The skin held a gruesome depression and the vocal chords were crushed. Not even a chance to scream for help.

It made him wonder if the man had been killed even before he'd gotten to her, but after she'd holed herself away in the bathroom.

Either way, the decision to murder him signaled just what type of men they were. Ruthless and unnecessarily cruel. It also alerted him that Jamie would no longer be safe on her own. They went out of their way to cause her pain. Were she in their grasps, he could only imagine what they planned to do to her.

He subconsciously made the choice to return her to the agency when he caught on to the words she whispered with hitched breaths - an attempt at keeping back tears - into his ear, hand still stroking his pale cheek with a motionless hand.

"I am so sorry, sweetness, for all the pain I've caused."

It actually made his heart wish to ache, had he the ability to empathize for anyone but himself.

* * *

**I feel bad for killing lovely Gabriel, but it makes for an interesting twist. Jamie will inadvertently blame Loki for his death even though deep inside her, she knows these mysterious men were to blame. If I was to continue, it'd be a year later from this incident. I want Jamie to cool down a bit and kind of retain some of her sass and for her to have a reasonable conversation with those around her, including Loki. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


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